


Under the weather

by Redrocketeer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Happy Ending, Improbable weather, Kid Fic, Next time there will be Prompto, No Spoilers, No chocobros were harmed, Sorry no Prompto in this one, They're wee beans, Worried dads, cute kids being cute, it's mostly fluff, kids in peril, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 02:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10548174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrocketeer/pseuds/Redrocketeer
Summary: When a storm hits the Citadel it's smallest residents get caught out in it.Or: Tiny chocobros have a scary time.





	

Ignis sat at a small table in the garden, ostensibly sketching but mostly he was holding down the fluttering corners of the page. The six-year-old looked up at the sky with a slight frown. It was still blue but the clouds were skating by fast, the air grew moist as the minutes passed. Ignis liked spending his quiet moments in the garden. It was peaceful, a good place to think under natural light. Of course, every now and then, it had its drawbacks but he was reluctant to give in to them.

“You should get a paperweight,” a voice to his left said. Ignis had very few friends. He found he quite liked his former classmates but wasn’t with them long enough to grow close before he was selected as the prince’s chamberlain. That meant a shift to tutors, taking most of his lessons alone. It left him with small chance to make a friend outside the prince but, then, in the case of Gladiolus Amicitia, no effort was required. 

“Do you have one I can use?” Ignis answered pragmatically.

“No but my father has one he probably won’t miss,” Gladiolus shrugged.

Gladio was naturally friendly and had an obvious confidence that Ignis supposed would be more useful in a Shield than the quieter sort of confidence he himself had. At seven he was more than half-a-head taller than Ignis and liked to pretend he was quite a bit more grown-up. At first Ignis had found the older boy’s forwardness off-putting but he had come to appreciate the company even if he was a little unsure why the lively boy was interested in befriending him.

“I’d appreciate it,” Ignis said, holding down the paper with one hand and righting his pencil cup with the other.  
Gladiolus jogged away, leaving Ignis alone with his small struggle. Ignis could feel his hair being pushed in every direction, his thin shirt battling to keep out the cooling air. He was on the verge of giving up on a bad idea when a brass horse screwed to a wooden base clomped down onto his paper. “I don’t think you’ve got much longer before it rains but this should- did you draw that?”

“Yes,” ignis said, thinking that was obvious.  
“It… it looks just like a cat. Doesn’t look like a kid did it. You’re _good_.”  
Ignis didn’t really know how to take compliments in his abilities but he did manage a quiet, sincere, “thank you.”

“I gotta get to training. Don’t blow away!” 

It was a ridiculous instruction but, able to get back to work, Ignis was grateful for the interruption, on balance. 

***  
“I left him here!” Noctis called as he ran towards the garden, fast as his short legs could carry him. He ran right past Ignis, his nurse chasing after.  
“Highness! It’s not safe out here today. Why don’t we play a game inside?”  
The prince didn’t hear, as was his way when he was set in his path. “I think he was here. Can you see him?”  
“No, I can’t. Perhaps you left it in your room?” the nurse suggested, hoping to divert the boy to a safer location.  
“I’m gonna look on the swing,” the prince announced, leaving his nurse to jog along or lose sight of him.

Thinking helping the prince was more important than his pleasant diversion Ignis slid down from his chair and ran after his prince and friend.  
“What are you looking for, Noctis?” He asked, getting attention where the nurse was denied.  
“Spero,” the prince answered, worry on his small face. “I can’t find Spero.” 

Ignis was familiar with the prince’s regular companion, a scuffed fox the boy had had since birth and a familiar guest at their afternoon teas. The loss of such a friend was an urgent matter. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him,” Ignis promised, his sketchbook forgotten. He ran towards the frog pond, a favourite haunt of the little prince, hoping the toy had simply been left there. It was a good place to start but all he found were lichen-covered rocks, gentle croaks and scattered flowers swaying harshly in the wind. The scrape of metal on stone made him turn his head in time to catch an outdoor chair sliding over the pavers that flanked the pond.

“Master Scientia! Please come away. We must go inside,” the nurse called urgently. She’d caught Noctis by the hand, ignoring the prince’s tugging as he tried to free himself. The first spit of rain tickled Ignis’ nose as he watched them. Looking up he could see the sky was no longer blue. For the first time tension worked its way through his body, pooling in his belly as he felt the elements around him starting to lose control. Ignis wasn’t a boy who spooked easily though he certainly wasn’t free of fears. He didn’t like wind so strong it could knock him to the ground or menace the trees that peppered the grounds. He didn’t like the thought there was nothing to do but wait and see what was left after it was finished. Most of all he hated its mournful howling.

Ignis ran towards the nurse and took her free hand, allowing her to guide him back towards the citadel, the prince crying on her other side. “We’ll find him,” he told the prince again but he didn’t think Noctis really heard him. Noctis seemed determined to compete with the wind for volume. 

They reached shelter damp and tousled but unharmed. As the big glass doors closed behind them Ignis breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The prince was safe, the wind was separated from them leaving only the its muffled sound and a view of the trees bending against it. A soft towel descended from above him and ruffled through his hair.

***

It was only once he was settled in his uncle’s living room that Ignis recalled his sketchbook. There was a lot of work that had already gone into it and the thought of it all being lost filled him with a cold dread. Not only that but he’d left something outside that didn’t even belong to him. He hurried to the coat cupboard by the front door and pulled out his raincoat. His uncle wasn’t due back from his afternoon duties for a little over an hour. It would be plenty of time. He only had to be quick.

***  
In his few months in the heart of the Citadel Ignis had come to learn his way around very well. He hardly ever got lost and had readily found all the entrances to the gardens. His favourite was through a pretty set of French doors leading from the small library set aside for use by staff. On a fine day he liked to drag one of the tall chairs into the crossbreeze and indulge in his one really literary fancy, pirate stories, but it wasn’t a fine day and no chair would stand long under that crossbreeze. Still, he only needed to open the door enough to slip through and that wasn’t far at all.

Ignis took a moment to steel himself, hand on the silvered doorknob. He could feel the wind pushing the door inwards like a heavy man trying to break in but there were breaks as it shifted direction and he took advantage of one, slipping out in a brief lull. He pulled the door too and set off after his work.

The rain was steady and Ignis held out little hope his work would be salvageable but losing Clarus Amicitia’s paperweight as well just wouldn’t do. He pushed through the wet slap of camelia bushes flailing about in the breeze, a small stone arch providing a moment’s reprieve. The wind made a dreadful whistle and only his forward momentum and sense of obligation kept him from dropping to the ground in fright. How would be explain losing something he probably should have had in the first place?

It was only a short distance to where he had been working, he told himself. In a minute it would be over. As he rounded the corner his heart sank. The little table was empty. There was no paper, no pens, and no brass horse. Ignis froze then. With no purpose to drive him forward he started to appreciate his surrounds. The wind seemed to grow louder, the rain more harsh. His glasses were fogged and covered in beads of water leaving him little to navigate by but smears of colour. His hands were shaking as he lifted them to pull his glasses off. After the scream they shook more.

It came from the potter’s shed.

Ignis took off for the shed at a pelt, shirt soaked and hair sticking to his forehead, funnelling water across his eyes. His lungs burned from the effort and the tension his fear leant them but he didn’t slow. The scream had been both familiar and filled with terror.

The potting shed was a small wooden structure seemingly held together by cobwebs and paint. Ignis usually avoided it having no love of the former and no pressing need to put up with them.  
It was usually an innocuous enough place otherwise but, with its narrow door banging sharply over and over, it was far more foreboding. 

The noisy shed the only available shelter for a good distance now. Spooked by the banging of wood on wood Ignis clamped his hands over his ears and made a dash for the building. A second scream had him running faster. The rain was stinging as the wind whipped it into his face. As he reached the door he closed his eyes and ran through in the moment it hung open.

Inside the shed it was dry. It smelled of earth and damp but the comforting kind. Had it been the smell alone Ignis might have been alright but there was the noise too and a little figure pressed to the back wall, also with his hands over his ears.

“Noctis, what are you doing here?”  
“Spero was afraid. I had to find him,” the prince sobbed. Of course, it wasn’t just Spero who was afraid. It wasn’t even mostly Spero. Ignis stepped closer and could see the soggy toy laying by the prince’s feet. He’d had to let it go to cover his ears.

Ignis knew the Citadel was where they should have been, the safe place. A rickety shed was poor shelter but it was also what they had and it was better than another dash across the open field, even if only by a little.  
“Spero will be okay,” Ignis said, trying to sound confident. “The wind will pass soon and we can go back.” It was mostly whistling in the dark but he hoped the prince was too young to notice. Ignis didn’t know when the wind would stop but he was starting to forget what quiet sounded like.

The cold wind that assailed him as the door snapped open again drove him to the back of the shed. His resolve starting to fray he dropped to his knees and pressed himself to the back wall as if it was his protector. Once the moment passed and the door closed again he reached out to pat the sobbing prince on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Noctis,” Ignis said, his voice shaking. “It’ll pass soon.” 

The sound of snapping branches and breaking glass made them both scream.

***

It wasn’t his job, not yet. His training was still the most basic, his responsibilities consisted of carrying messages and, occasionally, keeping the prince company. Gladio didn’t see himself as a messenger, however. He was a future shield, concerned with the safety of the future king.

Only he hadn’t been looking for the prince. 

He was almost back to the palace when his head was turned by the sound of breaking glass. A second later panicked screams joined it. No adults around, Gladio swore softly and shoved the sketchbook and the heavy brass horse into an alcove and bolted fearlessly towards the sound.

He pulled up outside the potting shed, now pierced by a tree branch through its side window. He knew there was someone in the shed, a kid from the sound of the scream. Maybe more than one. Gladio was almost afraid to open the door, afraid of what he’d see, but he balled his fists, gathering resolve. He reminded himself of his father’s words. _Fear alone is not a good enough reason not to do something. _  
He stepped up and pushed open the door.__

__It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the half-darkness. He heard soft sounds from ahead of him, sniffles mixed with sobs. It wasn’t unheard of for Gladio to tease a kid for crying but under this circumstance he only felt the urge to protect by whatever means he could._ _

__“Ignis. Noctis, you guys okay? Are you hurt?”  
No answer came and Gladio stepped closer. “Hey, guys, you need to tell me. Ignis?” It threw Gladio a bit to see the usually calm and contained boy sobbing into his liege’s shoulder, even more than it threw him to see fat tears run streaks on the prince’s grubby face._ _

__Gladio could see no sign of injury, they supported their own weight, for the most part. Fear then. Terror._ _

__Gladio had little fear of the storm. It allowed him to walk towards them calmly, kneel down, past the reach of the rain that was now falling inside the shed. He had seniority, a little. He knew he could use that. He didn’t really have anything else.  
He placed a hand each on Ignis’ and Noctis’ shoulder and levelled his voice. “It’s okay, guys. It’s fine. You’re fine. You need to calm down, okay? Stop crying?” He tried to be gentle about it but he might as well be trying to calm the storm. They didn’t act like they even heard him._ _

__“ _”Dammit.”__ _

__***_ _

___“Are you sure they’re out here, Clarus?”_  
“No but someone left my paperweight in the garden and I doubt it was one of your staff.”  
“A reasonable assumption,” Regis allowed.  
An umbrella, held by Clarus, made a game attempt to shield the king from the elements but neither of them were really focusing on staying dry. 

___“How did he get out here? Why wasn’t he being watched?” Frustration and fear made the king’s voice sharp.  
“That’s a question to raise once we are all back safely,” Clarus countered, lending his king a calm he didn’t really feel himself, as was his role. “If they are out here there are few places to hide. The rotunda. The glasshouse. The potting- Regis.”  
“Let’s hope they’re in the glasshouse,” Regis said thinly._

__The door was undamaged but a good deal of the right wall was stove in. None of that mattered to the two men sighted the three figures by the back wall, two locked together, one kneeling before them, all in tears._ _

__Clarus dropped the king’s umbrella and followed his king across the battered room. He didn’t miss how the children were positioned, how Gladio sat between the little ones and the damage. “It’s alright son,” he said, gently pulling Gladio towards him. “You’re safe now.” Gladio, exhausted, didn’t resist but he spared a glance at his companions._ _

__Regis, beside them, had the harder task. Gladio’s tears faded out quickly but Noctis and Ignis had built quite a bit of momentum. The roar of the wind hadn’t faded, fueling the fire. Regis closed his arms around both boys, unsure they were especially aware he was there. “Noctis. Ignis. My brave boys. What were you doing out in this?” The question was rhetorical, just a warm sound to counter the imposing noise of the storm. Regis caught sight of the soggy toy but didn’t make the connection. “The wind can’t hurt you now,” Regis said, much more worried father than king. Ignis rubbed at his eyes, fighting for control. Regis pulled both boys close, rocking gently. “Shhh, my Noctis. It’s alright. Daddy’s here. It’s alright, my sweet. It’s alright Ignis. Did you come to help?”_ _

__Regis felt a small victory when Ignis nodded in response. “That was very brave of you.” And foolish but it wasn’t the time for that._ _

__“Noctis, do you think we should take Spero back to the palace? Dry him off?” The little prince shook as he clung to his father but, finally, he was able to nod. Noctis’ raw sobs turned into quiet hiccups as his father rocked him. “Let’s get you boys inside.”_ _

__It would take a little strategy to keep them calm but Regis had an idea. “I want you to close your eyes. Both of you, that’s it.” He got to his feet, both boys and Spero too in his arms. “Keep them closed. We’re heading off now. Back to the house. Clarus is here too. It’s all fine now. Just a little breeze.” The wind whipped Regis coat against his legs and cut through Ignis thin shirt, the boy’s shivering spurred Regis into a run._ _

__Gladio had long since rejected being carried but he made no protest as his father carried him over the sopping lawn in much the same way. He was eager to be dry, clean and out of the damn elements._ _

__A few seconds later he got his wish._ _

__***_ _

__Ignis had never been happier to see a pair of clean pyjamas and a warm, fluffy, bed. He sat propped up against the pillows with a hot chocolate in his hands. To his left prince Noctis sipped chocolate milk carefully. To his right Gladio dipped a marshmallow in his drink and bit it in half. It wasn’t how Ignis usually slept but Regis was keen to offer the shaken children a chance to distance themselves from the events of the day and Clarus was keen to keep them where they could be kept an eye on so the idea of a sleepover was raised. That idea had been met with three genuine smiles. Regis had even managed to at least delay Clarus’ stern talking to, and his own._ _

___“Can you tell us a story?” Noctis asked. It was the same thing he asked every night his father could spare to see him to sleep._  
“Which story would you like tonight, Noctis?” Regis said warmly, careful to keep things light. All of the boys had been quieter than usual, poking at their dinner and only showing real interest in chocolate, in any of its forms.  
“Something with dragons,” Gladio chimed in. “Or knights.”  
“Frogs and moogles!” Noctis said.  
“What about you, Ignis? What would you like?” Ignis put his cup aside and settled down in the bed. He could still hear the wind distantly but it was only a sound mixing in with all the others now.  
“Something with horses,” he said, thinking of the paperweight. 

___“That sounds like a very busy time. I’d better get started.”_  
“Can Clarus do the voices?” Noctis asked, looking over at the king’s shield as he hovered discretely by the door.  
“I don’t think-” the shield began, sounding a little flustered.  
“A splendid idea! Pull up a chair, Clarus.”  
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Clarus knew and order when he heard one, even a ridiculous one. He understood the reasoning behind Regis’ indulgence. That didn’t make him feel less self-conscious.  
“You only call me that when you don’t want to do something you know,” Regis teased lightly, the sheer relief of finding his son safe made the king a little giddy.  
“No doubt,” Clarus deadpanned, who felt the same relief. He just hid it better. 

__This was all new to Ignis who had his uncle read to him before bed but his uncle had never put on a silly voice. He didn’t know if it was usual for his friends but he was looking forward to the show._ _

__Regis gathered up the remaining cups and held the blanket up so Noctis could settle lower in the bed. The little prince almost disappeared altogether. The covers were disturbed a moment later when Gladio sat bolt upright. “I have to go!” he exclaimed, feet over the side of the bed and aiming for the thick rug. Only his father’s hand slowed his escape. “You _have_ to stay here, unless it’s the bathroom you’re in need of,” Clarus said firmly.  
“No. You don’t understand,” Gladio said. “It’ll be ruined.”_ _

___“Gladio…,” Ignis turned his head to look at his friend.  
“The paper?” Clarus said at the same time, realising. “It’s drying in my office. I can’t promise it’s salvageable but there isn’t anything else for it. At least I have something to keep it flat,” he said with a little smile.  
Satisfied, Gladio settled back into the bed. Ignis relaxed too. He’d given his work up for lost. It was nice to hear it had a chance._

___“What are the frogs doing?” Noctis asked loudly, bored with non-story related discussion._  
“Why, they’re hopping of course,” Regis said.  
“Where are they hoping tonight?”  
“They’re off to Duscae, to see the king of the Moogles. He has an important mission for them. There’s a place you can only reach by hopping but they say, if you can find it, it’s the most beautiful of all places and it’s where the Moogle King lives.” 

___“What does the Moogle King sound like?” Gladio grinned wickedly.  
“Clarus?” Regis himself looked quietly amused.  
"Yes, Your Majesty."_

__It took some time for the giggling to die down._ _


End file.
